


The Art of Fisting

by orphan_account



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Fisting, Kink Meme, kinkofthecastle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3075557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate's a bit concerned about childbirth, but Castle's there to reassure her, to show her what her body is capable of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Fisting

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the Kink Meme Prompt:   
> "Castle/Beckett
> 
> Fisting. This - not the pregnancy, which is so frightening Kate, it's - childbirth. Prior to the Castle, to show to her that nothing is impossible. It may even give her a lot of pleasure."

“I’m not ready.”

Kate sits on the bed, legs pulled up to her chest, chin on her knees. Beside her bare toes sits the book, closed and turned so that the cover lays on the mattress – so she doesn’t have to see it. She read things. Things she can’t scrub out of her mind. About what could happen to her body during childbirth. And she thinks she’d almost rather go through being shot again, than go through that. She’s not even pregnant yet, they’ve only just started really talking about it, making plans to start trying. But, Christ, she read words that have made her want to close her legs tight - and never let anyone down there again.

Castle reaches for the book, plucks it off the mattress, places it on the floor, and uses his toes to slide it under the bed. “Forget about what you read.”

“I can’t.”

He hesitates. "Meredith loved being pregnant,” he tries, but the moment it's out of his mouth he regrets it. 

She sighs, and closes her eyes, but she doesn't seem angry. “It’s not that," she assures him. "That part I can handle. It’s…”

“What?” he asks, sitting beside her, coaxing her concerns out.

“Tearing,” she whispers, disgust and fear in her voice.

“Oh,” he says, and then shrugs. “But that might not happen." He doesn't know if he should mention it again, if she wants to hear about his ex-wife, but he says it anyay. "Meredith didn’t.” 

Her demeanor changes then; she visibly relaxes. “She didn’t?” Kate asks, meeting his eyes.

“We prepared," he begins. "She did kegels from the moment she found out she was pregnant, and…” He trails off. Will she be okay with what he's about to say?

“What?” Kate asks, her full attention on him now. “What else?” She lifts her chin, watches him, waits.

“You trust me?”

She huffs. “Stupid question. Of course.”

He nods; he slides his fingers into her hair, and draws her lips to his. Her lips part, and he kisses her slowly, exploring her mouth, taking his time. His fingers caress her scalp, calming her with his touch. He needs her relaxed for what he's about to try.

Her body shuffles down the bed as they kiss, and he moves with her, until he can nestle between her legs. He presses her down into the mattress, his lips still sliding against hers, and presses his growing erection against her core. He's desperate to be inside her, but this isn't about him. She moans into his mouth, her hips bucking to increase the pressure between her legs, and he has to pull back, just a little, before he gives in to his own needs.

Clinging to control, he peppers kisses up her jaw, murmurs into her ear, “Let me show you how amazing your body is.”

She swallows, unsure of what to expect, but nods, and then captures his lips again. But it's just a brief kiss, before he pulls away and begins to undress her.

He drags her shorts and panties down her long legs, and uses his broad palms to ease her legs apart. He settles between them again, his lips grazing her inner thigh, his nose brushing her clit. He reaches to the side of her head, plucks his pillow away from the headboard, and drops a final kiss to her sensitive skin. Easing her hips up with one hand, he slides the pillow beneath her, angling her pelvis just right. Legs spread wide, he teases her with his tongue, rotating her clit with just the tip, circling as moisture begins to pool. His tongue sweeps to collect the moisture and swirl it around her clit. He reaches for one of her legs, drapes it over his shoulder, and enters her deep with one finger while his tongue continues to tease. One finger, then two, sliding in and out, a slow but steady rhythm, building friction within her.

Her hips buck against him, and he knows she’s almost there, reaching that glorious peak. Each sweep of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers, elicits more moans, moves her hips just a little more erratically, and brings her ever closer to release. He finds her g-spot with the tips of his fingers, applies pressure, and caresses the area, until her body clenches, and she comes around his fingers.

She’s still for a moment, his fingers nestled within her, and then she begins to chuckle.

“What?” he asks, perplexed.

“If that’s it, I already knew my body was amazing.”

“That wasn’t it,” he assures her, easing her leg off his shoulder. “Just the beginning.”

She pushes herself up on an elbow. “Oh?”

He slides his fingers out, thrusts them back in, and presses his tongue to her clit again. She falls back on the bed, a breathy moan leaving her lips as she flops back. So wet now, he thrusts a third finger inside her with ease. She can take three, he knows this, but they’ve never tried four before. Considering his own girth, he’s not concerned. Bringing four fingers together, he is gentle, slow with his movements, as he slides them in. Her body tenses for a moment, but then she relaxes and her legs fall further apart, and her hips lift. She’s opening herself wider for him, and after her orgasm she's so relaxed and wet that the four fingers slide in without too much resistance. He keeps them within her, unmoving, letting her adjust around him, letting her muscles flutter and stretch.

“Move,” she pleads.

So he does. With slow, careful movements, he begins sliding four long, thick fingers in and out of her, listening to her breathy moans and broken intakes of breath.

“More,” she demands.

“More?”

“More.”

She gets it now; he realises she knows where he’s going with this. He loves that about her.

He withdraws his hand, despite her moan of protest, and reaches for the lube. He coats his skin, his fingers, his palm, his knuckles, and makes a duck out of his hand. Pressing the tips of four fingers and his thumb to her open, throbbing core, he works slowly, pouring more lube over his hand as he begins to ease it inside her. Inch by inch, he slides in, watching in awe as his fingers begin to disappear, her body drawing him in, accepting.

He doesn’t stop with the lube, squirting more out over his hand, which rotates as it glides in. Her legs are so wide, she’s so ready and open, and, just like he thought she could, she takes his hand. All of it. His fingers, his knuckles, disappear, and, after what feels like forever, his whole hand enters her. He can feel her inner walls throbbing around him as he curls his fingers into a fist. He waits, his fist inside her, while she gets control over her breathing, and relaxes again.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” she manages. “Go easy?”

“Always.”

It won’t take much now; every tiny movement will feel exquisite to her. He shifts his hand, a miniscule change, little more than a tiny twist of his wrist – and she comes. Her orgasm hits hard, her body clenching around his hand, every part of her stilling, before the waves of release naturally push his hand out. A gush of moisture follows, and he leans in and captures it with his tongue, lapping at her while every muscle spasms in release.

“Fuck,” she sobs, breathing heavy, legs still twitching.

“Good one?” he asks, his voice muffled between her legs.

“Best yet,” she says honestly, her breathing ragged. She gives his head a little push, to let him know it's all her body can handle right now, but he presses one final kiss to sodden clit before pulling away. 

He wipes his hand on the sheets, lube and her juices smearing the silk, and then moves up next to her on the bed, and grins. “You took my whole hand, Kate.” He’s a little in awe, actually. It took Meredith weeks to get to that point. Kate managed it in one session. He knew she could do it, just hadn’t expected it so fast, but he’s certainly pleased with the outcome. “See how amazing your body is?”

Still shaky, she turns onto her side, and meets his eyes. “I’m still scared,” she admits, wrapping her fingers around his bicep for stability.

“I know,” he says, reaching over to brush strands of hair off her damp cheek, her entire body slicked with sweat now. “And I can’t guarantee that there won’t be complications, but I’ll be right beside you through it all. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“And it’s one moment, right?”

“One moment, one small part of it all. Don’t focus on it. Think of what the end result is.”

“A baby,” she murmurs.

“Our baby,” he replies.

She presses her lips to his and smiles against them. “Still,” she begins, pulling back, grining now. “We should do that again.”

“We’ll go it a lot,” he promises.

“In between the stuff that’ll actually get me pregnant, of course.”

He laughs. “Oh, trust me, we won’t be doing any less of that stuff," he promises, and then kisses her soundly as her hand trails down to the bulge in his pants.

 

 


End file.
